Strings of Fate
by The Glorious Reader
Summary: Guts had never believed in the idea of a future built on fate or predestination. A man could always change his course through his own willpower and strength. After defeating Griffith in their first encounter, however, he would never realize how much he would change his own fate, along with the destinies of others. AU. Rating is prone to change.
1. Chapter 1: Siege Warfare

**Hello Everyone, Reader here! Just posting another idea that I had floating around in my archives that I forgot about, and just getting the creative juices flowing as I write my new chapters for my other stories. The idea behind this story is that Guts never joins the Band of the Hawk, along with a few other plot additives as well. And with that, let's get into the story!**

 **There is a new poll up on my profile, vote on it if you want to see a new story!**

(Guts - Wyndham) = Person and P.O.V

"Hello!" = Speech

" _Thinking_ " = Thoughts

*BANG* = Action

 **DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT BERSERK**

 **Chapter 1: Siege Warfare**

* * *

 **(Unknown P.O.V - Unknown Place)**

A lone figure laid on a patch of grass seemingly in the middle of nowhere, only a nearby dirt wood and a beaten down wooden sign gave signs of human civilization. The young man laid on his back, a large metal chest plate, a set of pauldrons on his shoulders, a set of sheet greaves on his upper thighs and a cast away metal helmet were prominently displayed. But what would intrigue some, and terrify most others, was the terrifyingly large sword that rested in its hilt on his back. The width of the grey and black blade was bigger than most swords, but it was the blades length that gave it a terrifying appearance that would send most enemies running in fright. The man seemed to be deep in thought, his head resting on his hands and his gaze was towards the sunny blue sky.

"What...What the hell was that dream about?", he spoke softly. Slight beads of sweat ran down the sides of his exhausted face. He shook his head and wiped the sweat off, while he pushed himself from the ground and swept off the dirt and strays of grass off his armor. The image a skeleton dressed in imposing armor atop a ghastly horse was burned into his memory.

'It was nothing...just a dream. You're a mercenary Guts, you've seen shit on the battlefield worse than this. Let's just forget about it...", the warrior spoke to himself mentally. He stretched his back and arms, picked up the helmet and stepped onto the road. He walked down the road for about an hour before he reached the military camp he was searching for. He approached the camp and the guards immediately raised their weapons.

"Halt! Who goes there?", spoke one. Guts simply raised his hands in the air.

"I'm a mercenary here about the advertisement of work recently posted in the nearby city of Calieuo.", he spoke calmly. The soldiers took a second to process the information before lowering their weapons.

"Understood. You are to head to the center part of camp and approach the green tent with a wooden table in front it. There you will register with the administrator before you'll be briefed by the general. The center of camp is straight down this road. Just keep your weapon in its sheath and mind your manners and no one will bother you.", spoke the soldier quickly. Guts merely nodded and proceeded into the camp.

Apart from a few curious gazes, few gave him notice as he walked down the camps central path. Most were performing various tasks such as sharpening swords, moving jugs of water or moving sacks of grain. Others were simply relaxing, drinking or sleeping soundly in their tents. This was what most war camps and forts were like, seeing different armies across his career of being a lone mercenary.

Eventually he reached the center of camp, which was posted in a small hill with three main tents. He spotted the particular tent the soldier spoke about, a large wooden desk manned by a tall man with a mustache. He walked over to the man, the prestigious looking man a cracked a smile that would give a rat a run for its money.

"Welcome! Here for the mercenary work I presume?" he spoke somewhat enthusiastically.

"I am." he said in a polite tone.

"Straight to the point are we? I like that! Well then, let's get down to business, shall we?" he said while pulling out a ledger with pen and ink. Gut simply nodded and took the seat across from the administrator.

"So as advertised, you will be paid a sum of 20 gold for completing your duties in battle. You will be assigned to company A, the first battalion charging in after an opening is made in the fort walls. You will be briefed later from the company commander for further details." he said while he handed Gut the feather pen and pushed to him the bottle of ink.

"Just sign right there...", he said while pointing to the empty slot, "...and I'll hand you the advanced payment of 5 gold. Also you will be assigned a tent to sleep in before the battle tomorrow morning. Any food or wine you want will come from your own pocket and will not be paid for. Any questions?"

Guts shook his head and signed his signature onto the freshly made paper. Placing the pen into the ink bottle and pressing it towards the man, he grinned before pulling out 5 gold coins and a slip of paper to the mercenary. Looking over the paper, it detailed where his assigned tent would be and where the commander of company A would be. Placing the gold and paper into his bag, he got up from the chair, nodded to the man and quickly exited the tent before setting out across the camp. After walking for a short while, he spotted and approached group of men who appeared to be mercenaries like him, he joined them and overhead the man he presumed was the commander speaking in front of them.

"Ah, another lamb to the slaughter, eh? Well, the more the merrier! As I was saying..." he said before resuming his speech. The man appeared to be an aged veteran, having wrinkled and scarred skin and balding grey hair. He wore a simple tunic that identified him as a higher ranking official than the grunts around him.

"Tomorrow, our merry little band is going to be assaulting the inner city when our sappers knock a hole in those pesky little walls. As you might have been told, were going to be the first ones going in, so I expect very few of us are going to survive the attack. But! Hopefully our archers and crossbowmen can scale the walls and provide us with much needed fire support. If you have any further questions, I'll be here for a little while longer. Be here at the crack of dawn tomorrow. You are all dismissed." he said as the men nodded and most of them wandered off.

"Boy, come here for a second." said the voice of the old man to Guts as he was about to walk away. Turning around and walking towards the veteran, the man gave a slight smile before speaking.

"Your quite young for being a mercenary. And the size of your sword too! Usually kids like you are at school or working in craftsmen shops, not spilling blood on the battlefield." he spoke in what sounded as a condescending voice to the boy.

"My profession is none of your damn concern, old man. Killing is the only thing I know and good at, I've been raised to kill since the day I could hold a sword in my hands." spoke Guts in response.

"Call me Hunter, being called old reminds me of my back pains and aching bones. Tell me, what is yours?"

"They called Guts..." said the teen boy awkwardly. He was not used to normal human interaction, usually only speaking to his superiors about his orders or to shopkeepers. He couldn't recall the last time he had a somewhat casual conversation with someone else.

"Well Guts, let's hope that we both live through tomorrow! Its certainly going to be a bloodshed, and I can only hope I'll live to retirement! Good luck, and I'll see you tomorrow Guts!" spoke the man.

"Well, goodbye Hunter. Good luck as well." said Guts hesitantly. They parted ways and Guts decided to settle into his tent at the other side of the camp. He thought about his interaction with the old man through his walk, not understanding why an old geezer would want to do with him. His life had been filled with quite strange events as of recently with the strange dream he had earlier today.

Reaching the tent, he opened the flap and entered, before closing it looking around the room. It had a small bed, just big enough for him to sleep in, and a small lit candle. He stripped the armor from his body and removed his sword before laying them onto the ground next to the bed. Walking over to the the candle, he extinguished the flame before he himself lowered his body to the comfortable cushioned bed. It had been a long time since he felt a comfortable bed, usually it ended with him sleeping on the ground or on straw mats. Eventually his eyes grew heavy and he slowly drifted to sleep.

* * *

 **(Guts - Tudor Camp)**

Guts woke with a jolt as he heard the sounds of rapidly moving people outside his tent. The sounds of cannon fire and catapults shooting along with the morning gave him the assumption that the battle had begun. He quickly got up and attached his armor to body and strapped his sword to his back and exited the tent. Hurrying past other rushing men, he reached his company and they gathered around the aged veteran.

"Well boys, the time is nigh! It's time to head out! I've got word that the sappers have done their part to blow a mighty nice hole, and now it's time for us to put in our fair share of work! Once were inside, make your way to the center of the fort where we will regroup. Lets go!" he yelled and the other cheered. Guts just simply nodded and the group took their position at the edge of the battlefield.

Guts gazed at the slowly moving siege towers and the fighting occurring atop the battlements. He saw men being sliced apart and body parts being dismembered, along with people falling to their deaths.

"CHARGE!" yelled the commander as the group ran from the entrenched position. In a few second, they were speeding across the battlefield, some already being cut down by crossbow bolts and arrows. Guts skillfully dodged the incoming attacks, using his armored gauntlet to block a few of the arrows that managed to slip by.

Reaching the breach made in the wall, it was guarded by many enemy soldiers along what appeared to sappers trying to plug the broken wall. Guts pulled his long sword from behind him and slashed as the nearest hostile came into sword easily sliced directly through the man's armor as if it was nothing, sending the body flying sideways before preparing his next attack. As an enemy tried attacking from his rear, he swiftly turned and blocked the smaller sword then kicked him away.

He dashed towards the man and decapitated him in a single strike. Another tried to directly stab him, but was quickly overpowered by the much larger sword. After a few short moments, he and the rest of the mercenaries cut down the rest of the defenders and sappers before they tore down the existing defense and entered the city.

Being a type of lone wolf in combat, he separated himself from the group and went down a separate path to the city center. The long and filthy alleyways were many, occasionally eliminating individual soldiers as he made every turn. Upon turning into what appeared as a courtyard, a large group of men dressed in strange armor stood talking to each other. Hearing his footsteps, they turned to face him with their swords drawn.

As five men charged him all at once, he let out a yell as his blade cut through all them in a single swipe. The rest of them appeared horrified as their comrades fell dead as they stood in fear. Grinning wildly, a frenzied Guts readied his blade and went on the attack with a vicious ferocity. He cut down the remaining soldiers that remained in the courtyard, painting both the area and armor in crimson red. Looking around and seeing any living soles, he left the corpse filled area to reach the rallying point in the center of the fort town.

Entering the chaotic scene, he spotted heavy fighting between the defenders and the friendly mercenaries, spotting a particular old man gutting someone with his spear. At the very center of the fighting was a large man dressed in heavy plated armor swinging a massive battleaxe with lethal precision. A large crowd at this point had formed around him, many of Tudor soldiers and mercenaries trembling in fear as they waited for anyone else to take the initiative.

"A bonus of 20 gold will be awarded to anyone who can defeat him!" yelled the frightened commander.

"Is there nobody who can take me on, the mighty Bazuso?! Come on, face me you cowards!" yelled the boisterous man. Guts scoffed as he hoisted the long sword over his shoulder and slowly made his way through the crowd to face the enemy. Breaking through, he stood opposite to the heavily armored knight as all the eyes of the crowd and even from the battlements directed at him.

"A child! Bah, you disappoint me! You'll are truly cow-" he was cut off as Guts charged him with powerful swing attack that Bazuso barely was able to block against. Attack after attack drove Bazuso backwards while Guts steadily advanced, the larger man having to put all his effort into defending against the relentless assault.

"Look at that kid! His speed!" yelled one soldier.

"He's dominating him!" yelled another.

As some soldiers yelled while other cheered, Hunter gazed at the fight with awe at how the child was single handily pushing back the much larger and assumed to be more powerful warrior. It appeared as if the entire battle had stopped just to stare at the duel between the boy and knight occurring at the center of it. A particular pair of cold blue eyes gave a curious gaze towards the duel.

Bazuso heavily pressed his foot down into the ground, forcing the dirt and brick to crumble beneath it in an attempt to stabilize himself and counterattack. With a heave, he swung his axe downward while the boy simultaneously swung his sword upward, the two blades clashed and created a large crack in the axe. The two quickly pulled their respective weapons away as each readied their final attacks.

Both of them repeated their last attacks, while Bazuso attempted to aim for the boy head. As the damaged blade of the axe connected with the boy helmet, the axe's blade shattered along with the helmet as they fell to the ground. A look of horror became present in Bazusos eyes as he realized he was now at the complete mercy of the boy in front of him. Guts's blade continued and smashed into Bazusos side, piercing through the plated armor and making a deep cut into his gut. After removing the blade, the larger man fell to his knees in pain and let out a loud groan.

"Please!", yelled the pleading wounded warrior, "MERCY!"

Guts ignored him as he raised his blade above Bazusos head and swung downwards. The blade easily sliced through the armor and split the mans head into two, blood pooling down his neck as Guts removed the bloodied sword from his head and held it outward.

Everyone was silent around him as everyone attempted to process what had just occurred. A warrior once thought to be unbeatable was easily butchered by someone who was barely a teenager. This remained for second before the commander sharpened up and yelled loudly.

"N-Now! Everyone, sieze the castle! CHARGE!" he yelled as the men cheered before renewing their attack on the disheartened defenders. On the battlements above, a man dressed in armor that made him appear as an eagle along with other 3 other armored men stood in awe.

"Wow! I didn't realize our enemy had someone like that! Must be a mercenary." said a man with red hair. The man in the eagle armor remained silent as he continued to stare down at the boy, who was now sticking down another soldier of the Midland army.

"Thinking about which one of you is stronger?" spoke an arrogant brown haired soldier.

"Of course not! No one can defeat our leader, isn't that right, Griffith?"

"Evacuate this fort." was all the silver haired man said.

"Well, we had a good run! Three months is better when everyone thought we were only going to last only three days." spoke the brown haired man again before the three disappeared from view.

* * *

 **(Guts & Hunter - Tudor Camp)**

"Good job Guts!" yelled Hunter as he slapped the boy on the shoulder. The two had returned to the camp following the victory over Midland's forces in taking the fort. Tomorrow was where they and the other mercenaries would get there pay and he could move one.

"Um...thank you...Hunter..." the boy said awkwardly. The two were currently eating and drinking in his tent at the moment. A few fel

"I would be ecstatic if I were you! The skill you showed today was better than what most men learn in a lifetime! You must have had a great teacher for you to have skilll that good!" he said with a ecstatic voice but calmed when he saw the boys morbid face.

"Oh, I'm...I guess I hit a nerve with that one, Huh? Sorry about that, I just get a little over-excited at times." he said sheepishly. Guts shook his head and gave the old man a slight smile.

"It's fine, we all have skeletons in our closets. I just seem to have more than others..." said the boy. Hunter nodded in agreement as he grabbed his trash and stood at the tents exit.

"Well Guts, this is our goodbye I guess. I hope we meet each other again some day." said the aged veteran. The boy only nodded in response and he left.

Sitting in silence, he moved the rubbish from his dinner into a corner and laid his head down onto the pillow. Raising his hand above his head, he gazed at the many wounds and gashes across his skin, remembering the scars and trauma from both combat and his "special" training with Gambino.

"What is there in life other than fighting...?" he asked himself quietly as he recollected over his memories. All who could remember is himself fighting, whether it be struggling to live, fighting in a war or training, his whole existence was dedicated to conflict. He got up, fought and killed in battle, collected his coin and simply moved onto the next battlefield to kill even more.

He shook his head and removed those unnecessary thoughts from his mind. He didn't need some greater purpose in life in order to live. He didn't need a special dream to enact. All he needed to do is to simply live till the next morning sun and so on.

His eyes feeling heavy, he closed them and his mind wandered to sleep. He dream't of Gambino and his foster mother, about how they could have been a real family together before she passed from the plague.

 ** _To be Continued..._**

* * *

 **And with that, I call it a wrap! I hope you all enjoyed it! I love Berserk and Guts as a character, and I just wanted to make a story about him. Hopefully I will get to updating this story, alongside my other stories soon, just needing to get through school and life is being a pain at the moment. After that I will devote more time to writing these fics. Well, thanks as always, and have a good one!**

 **(P.S: I am looking for beta reader for my stories, If your interested send me a PM!)**

 **Next Chapter: Clipping the Hawk**


	2. Chapter 2: Clipping the Hawk

**Hello Everyone, Reader Here! Its been a while, so I hope you are all ready for a new chapter! See ya'll at the bottom!**

 **DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN BERSERK**

 **Chapter 2: Clipping the Hawk**

* * *

Strolling down one of the many dirt paths that criss-crossed through the rolling hills of the Midlands, Guts lazily swung his bag of gold around his finger while whistling a random tune, his short black hair flowing backwards as a gust of wind blew by. His sharpened long sword was displayed proudly on his back while his repaired helmet and sack of water were strapped to the holster on his hip.

Emboldened after their victory at the fortress city, the Tudor Empire had gone on the offensive against the weakened Midland, taking a few towns while preparing for another siege on a key fortress near by. It barely mattered to the young mercenary, as all he needed was for the war to continue and despite Tudors recent achievements, the war remained inconclusive for either side. All it meant for Guts was more opportunities to earn him more gold and to continue on what he does best. Killing.

"Hmm?" he spoke aloud as heard the galloping of horses feet in the distance, Guts gazed towards the nearby hills, spotting multiple armed men with their weapons drawn and charging at him while yelling loudly.

 _" **Another** bandit attack?"_ he mentally whined while he unsheathed his massive sword and took an offensive stance. The first man on horseback approached rapidly, swinging his sword wildly while letting out a loud war cry. Guts raised his sword and prepared himself for the attack.

Coming within range, the swordsmen sent the blade in a sideways attack that cleaved through the mans torso, the horse scampering off before the corpse of the supposed bandit collapsed from the saddle. As the body fell from the horse, he looked at the insignia of two hawk wings surrounding a sword on the armors pauldron while he remained focused on his surroundings for the other bandits actions. He soon realized that these were no ordinary bandits, or even bandits at all. These were the same mercenaries he had fought a few days earlier during that siege.

The famed Band of the Hawk.

"What the hell do these guys want with me?" he whispered silently while readying his blade again. In front of him was a large soldier swinging a flail while behind him was a man holding a spear and wearing a strange helmet.

The swordsman quickly ducked under the spears tip and hastily turned to meet the other attacker before he could stop the horses momentum. As the man was about to send the ball flying, Guts blade flew downwards and severed the mans arm from his body in a bloody mess. Unable to support himself, the man fell to the ground wailing while clutching his bloodied stump that was left of his right arm, all the fellow attackers gazing at the scene in complete horror.

All the while Guts stood perfectly fine in the centers of the racing horsemen, each of them appearing much more timid and afraid than they initially were. Looking over the attackers, he spotted what looked like the leader of the group, the same one who had spear and was circling at the outer edge of the group. The lone mercenary charged at the man with his sword fully ready to slice the whimpering man in two. As he reached him, however, a crossbow bolt tore through his shoulder and he was forced to a halt. Meanwhile the man and the other attackers fled from the battlefield to take the position as an observer, yelling quick thanks to whomever just shot him.

Looking backwards, he spotted a person armed with a short sword in one hand while an empty crossbow was in the other, charging at full speed. He reached behind him and pulled the bolt from his arm and snapped it in half. He met the person sword swipe as they attacked weakly with their blade. The person galloped away while reloading the crossbow with another bolt, then they came around for another attack. Their sword arm was raised while their left hand held the fully loaded crossbow that was aimed directly at him.

In response he held his massive sword as a makeshift shield to block either attacks. As she was about to swing, he ducked and sent a powerful blow at the person that knocked them off the horse. The beast galloped away as he looked down at the fallen warrior, whose helmet was knocked off in the confusion. Looking at their round face and petite build, he came to a realization.

"A woman?" he questioned aloud. This remark seemed to anger the girl as she let out a loud roar and charged at him with a flurry of attacks. He blocked each of the slashes successfully, while also launching his own attacks with his broad sword. He could see the woman visibly wince in pain as her blade and slim arms seemed to vibrate with each blow. He continued to go on the offensive, pushing her back farther and farther until she slipped on a small rock and fell to the ground.

She looked up at him with a look mixed with both confusion and fear, her eyes widened and mouth agape as he held his sword up as if he was an executioner ready to cleave her head from her body. He gave her an unsympathetic gaze as he begun to heave the heavy sword downwards, but was stopped when a long javelin landed directly in front of him.

Turning to where it came from, an almost angelic like man appeared in his view atop an armored horse, his flowing white hair and his silver armor shined in the sunlight. Combined with his pristine white skin and calculating azure eyes that seemed to bore into him, he could physically feel an intimidating and commanding aura coming from him. Guts held his sword in one hand as the two locked eyes in a unspoken contest of will.

"Put down your sword, mercenary. Let us solve this like civilized people." spoke the man in a calm voice. He could not make out if it was arrogance or something else that made the man this relaxed, despite himself cutting down two of his men just then and scores just a few days before. Looking around, he could see the rest of the Band seemingly relaxed at the sight of their leader taking to the field, some even cheering and raising their weapons into the air.

 _"These mercs have complete confidence that this guy can take me on. I gotta be careful with this one..."_ , he thought while raising his sword in defiance, _"...Judging from that saber of his he'll go for quick attacks. From this angle, I wont be able to get a shot at him. I need to first get him down from that horse before I can do some real damage."_

The man eyed him with disappointment in his cold blue eyes before quickly drawing his own blade. He held the sword in manner that just dared Guts to come and attack him directly. Narrowing his eyes, he bent his legs forward and charged directly at the white haired man at a full charge. The teen mercenary could still see the same emotionless face as he closed in, like a hawk ready to spring a trap.

When Guts appeared as if he was going to swing at the man, the Hawks leader pulled the saber back in a defensive measure. Instead of attacking him, however, Guts merely smirked and moved sideways and cut down the horses neck instead. The man appeared stunned as the horse began to spasm out of control as its head was cleanly cut off, the quick movements sending the hawk to the ground.

Not wasting time, Guts charged him and slashed downwards as hard as he could. The saber and broadsword clashed as the silver haired man swung his sword faster than Guts could see to block his own attack. Sparks flew as the blades met, the two merely stood opposite of each other, the two mercenaries starring at one another until silver hair pulled his sword back quickly and aimed at his neck. Guts barely managed to stop the tip of the saber from reaching his throat, with each subsequent stab being much more difficult to block than the last as they moved faster than he could sense.

 _"Is this guy even human?! How can someone move their sword that fast?!"_ he thought ironically as one of the persons stabs sliced into his chest. Guts could tell that this guys was quite observant, being able to detect and exploit weakness's in his armor and his nerve points on his body with pin point efficiency and speed.

 _"I need to finish this now, or he'll overwhelm me!"_ he thought frantically as the man leaned back. He appeared to be readying one last attack as his movements indicated that his last attack will be much more heavy than his usual light ones. Guts grit his teeth as he raised his own blade upwards, indirectly sending his opponent what appeared to be a challenge.

In a blur both of them crossed the distance between each other and clashed one last time. The forces of their attacks were so powerful that it caused a gust of dirt to envelope them in a hazy cloud of dry dirt and pulled up grass. The distinct sound of metal hitting the ground resounded through the chaotic scenes, looks of triumph on the men and women of the Band of the Hawk until their grins and smirks turned to expressions of horror.

On the ground was half of the saber cut clean through the center, the handle and stub of the blade stilled gripped in his shaking hand while the man in question keeled on the ground with his eyes widened. Guts blade had barley cut through the mans neck, with the blade only a few inches from inflicting a fully lethal blow.

"GRIFFITH!" screeched the voice of the same woman he had almost beheaded earlier, the pained voice breaking the eerie silence. Guts continued to grip the blade, his breathing erratic as his hands refused to press down on the blade to finish off the man known as Griffith. Though the shrill voice the young women seemed to bring him back to reality, as he remembered that he was still on a battlefield with dozens of hostiles surrounding him, with probably more ready to join the fray nearby.

"I will let him live, if you guarantee that I wont be shot in the back as I leave! I want everyone here to drop their weapons now, or I will kill him!" barked out Guts. He emphasized his point by appearing as if he was ready to press down on his bloodied sword.

"Do as he says!" yelled the same women.

"But Casca-!" spoke the shrewd man that was apart of the first group that attacked him but was cut of by the woman known as Casca.

"Don't you speak back to me! I don't like it eather, but our leaders in danger and we cant stop him with our swords. We cant let him die like this!" she yelled again with tears forming in her eyes. The other remaining members seemed to agree as one by one they dropped their various weapons and stepped away from them. The man with the spear hardened his face snorted as he threw his weapon to the ground as if he was an angry child not getting their way.

Seeing as they met his demands, he slowly pulled the blade from the shallow wound and sprinted to a nearby horse that had been ridden by one of the mercenaries he had just cut down. He kicked the horse and the beast galloped away from the bloody field of grass before the disarmed Hawks could grab their weapons and retaliate. Looking back, he realized that only the shrewd man from before was still looking at him, with all the other moving to their downed leader.

"He seems like the only sensible one outta that lot..." he muttered as they slowly disappeared from view. Not wanting to be caught by another group, he kept riding hard until he reached a road paved with stone, which were usually the only roads that were patrolled by the nearby cities and towns. Then he calmed the horse before they quietly traveled down the road with no interruptions.

* * *

 **(Clearwater Junction - Same Day - Guts)**

The normal looking city of Clearwater Junction bustled with activity as people of all ages, professions and class walked through the crowded streets. The fair ancient city was one of the oldest in all the Midlands, rivaling the capitol of Wyndham in terms of age, though was much smaller in terms of its size and population. The city was named after the river that split the city from east to west, the Clearwater river, famous for having some of the cleanest and pure water one could find, while also being one of the central trading hubs of the kingdom as well. The presence of soldiers patrolling the street showed that, despite being nestled behind fortresses and cities, the everlasting war with the Tudor Empire was still present.

"They must be getting nervous with the Tudors getting so close to one of their biggest coin purses. Even I would start getting nervous if I was the governor of this city." mused Guts as he limped along the cobbled roads. He needed to find a doctor before his wounds got infected, while also needing to find the armorer to try and get his weapons and armor repaired from all the fighting he had done recently. The teen cursed the Band of the Hawk under his breath at the thought of losing his entire bonus due to their interference. He noticed around him that his crimson stained gear had brought the attention of the inhabitants as whispers of him began to circulate.

"Look at that guy! He must be a veteran soldier!" spoke one boy giddily as he pointed at him.

"That blood on his armor, he must have just got off the battlefield! Does that mean the fighting is getting closer to our fair city!" one young woman said in a panic. The fellow people at the table she was sitting at, all dressed in noble clothes, tried to calm her.

"That boy looks too young to be a soldier! He should be out trying learn a respectable trade!" spoke the voice of an old man with a pipe in his mouth. Guts groaned loudly as he tried to block out the gossiping from entering his already fatigued mind.

 _"Guess I should've cleaned the blood off before I got into the city. Guess I sorta forgot about it. I'll do it when I find an inn later."_ Guts mentally scolded himself for making a careless mistake. Although the guards gave him awkward stares and a quick questioning, they seemed to pay him no mind, so he didn't feel it was necessary to clean himself just yet. Looking around, he finally saw a shop with a medicinal sign handing above the door.

"Finally..." he said as he pressed against the wooden door carefully. The sound of small bells rung as the door fully opened, inside he found quite a peculiar sight. A young woman with light teal hair gazed intently over an alchemist station with an older man brewing an elixir, with a younger boy with wild red hair running around with alchemy supplies bundled in his hands.

"It appears we have a customer, Master..." spoke the girl gently. The old man turned to greet the much taller mercenary.

"Welcome to Westinghouse Elixirs, how can I help you today?' spoke the man.

"I need an elixir to help with these wounds. Also I need bandages if you have them as well." spoke Guts politely. The man nodded as he turned to the boy.

"Kirth! Get me some of those medicinal bandages from the storage room! Julia, can you get me a flask, some redberries and a few Plavo plant leaves?' said the man. The two nodded and went in search of their items.

"No offense boy, but you look like you've been through hell. I'm guessing your a mercenary or a soldier with the army? Haven't seen you with the guard so I doubt your with them." asked the wrinkled man as the girl handed him the flask and ingredients. Guts seemed quite surprised by the mans bold claim, mostly at how direct he was with the question.

"Indeed. I fought during that battle at the fortress city quite a distance from here. I haven't been able to get my wounds set due to being harassed constantly by bandits and raiders along the roads." he replied. Just as the old man was going to respond, the sound of heavy boot steps was heard as he noticed a man walking down the nearby steps. As soon as he saw the mans face, he nearly dropped his belongings in shock as the two instantly recognized each other. The older man whom was on the steps grinned heavily as he reached the ground level.

"It seems our little reunion has occurred quite sooner than I expected, boy!" spoke the grey haired man laughing as a warm smile took his face.

"Hunter...?" Spoke the boy whom appeared to be gobsmacked. All while this was happening, the old alchemist stared incredulously at the two before speaking out in a confused voice

"How the hell do you know each other?"

* * *

 **There you go! Thanks for reading as always! Since I have the liberty here to go into more about the Midlands and generally the world of Berserk as well, I plan on expanding the lore and history behind the land much more than they do in the manga.** **So you all can look forward to that! Also I thank everyone who has given their support for the story as well, I always appreciate that! Just a reminder, if you have any ideas or tips just leave a review! Again, thanks for reading, and have a good one!**

 **Next Chapter: Wisdom of an Old Man**


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